Page 70 of Waltzing With Witches

Abe barks orders, and Richard lifts a giant hammer the size of a goddamn tree trunk. He yanks it effortlessly up behind him and brings it down onto the wall with a grunt.

Stone chips explode out from the hit, and the coffee shop screams. Literally screams like a person. Pietro lets out a terrible cry but grits his teeth. Richard lifts the hammer and bashes the wall over and over until a hole starts to form.

The building’s pain eats at me like a knife to the gut, stabbing over and over every time they hurt her. But there’s so much relief alongside that pain, relief that help is here for her.

The hole’s big enough for someone to crawl through.

“Stand back!” Abe shouts at the other monsters just as a snarl echoes out from the hole.

I blink, and in a moment, a figure covered in dirt leaps out of the hole, knocking Alo and both vampires to the ground. A thrall.

Holy shit. This one’s easily twice as big as the others, and where its body looks like some sort of enormous wolf, its head looks horribly like Ohken’s. A shifter. Or what used to be a shifter, maybe?

The monster whips around with a snarl, but Alo, Richard, and Abe are on it in a second, stabbing and slashing. In moments, nothing’s left of it but a pile of limbs.

Alo kicks at the monster’s hindquarters, his big chest heaving. Dropping to his heels, he grips the thrall’s back foot and lifts it up, his eyes flicking to the Keeper. “Wesley’s sigil. How? And how did Shepherd and I not feel it?” He looks over at his brother, his face a mask of concern.

Shepherd tucks his wing out of my way with a fierce look. “Sorry, sis. Had to keep you safe, or Thea would have my balls.”

“Noted,” I mutter. “Thanks.”

Abe’s red eyes flick to mine, a flash of relief moving through them before he looks back at the thrall. “I need to know how it got into town, and how none of us noticed.” He glances at his comm watch. “No alarms from the ward monitoring system either.”

“It looks sort of familiar,” I murmur, staring at the face.

“Oh gods,” Alo says, his gray face turning pale. “Is that—”

“Leighton,” Richard barks. “From my pack.” He crosses both arms and steps back. “I spoke to him yesterday morning.” His green eyes narrow at the shifter. “How could this happen?”

Dirk peers into the hole in the wall, then looks over at the Keeper. “Somehow, Wesley’s here. I dunno how he could manage it, but he is.” He stands. “I’ll need to recall the team and update Evenia.”

Abe nods, staring absentmindedly at the bloody figure on the ground. Lifting his comm watch, he calls Arkan and tells him to meet us at Doc Slade’s. My mind wanders back to the first time I met Doc Slade. That was to examine a thrall too. I guess history repeats itself.

Fuck.

Footsteps pound down the stairs. Thea and Wren burst into the basement, looking side to side before they run across the small space and yank me into their arms.

“Jesus!” Thea shouts at me. “What the fuck?!”

Wren squeezes me tight. “You scared the shit out of us, Morgan.”

I hold my sisters close, grateful they weren’t here or in danger.

But they could have been if this thing got out.

Richard’s deep baritone breaks through my thoughts. “How’d you know it was here, Morgan?” His tone isn’t accusatory, but I sense suspicion.

“She touched the counter,” Pietro replies. “And the shop told her something was wrong.”

“The building was in pain,” I offer. “And I couldn’t quite figure out why from upstairs, so I ran down here and…” I wave a hand at the wall.

“Beautifully done,” Abe murmurs. “Black magic at its finest. We owe you a debt of gratitude.”

Richard sighs and gestures at the fallen figure. “Help me get him to Slade’s. I’ll have to notify Leighton’s family immediately.”

I pull my sisters closer.

“Do you want to go with them?” Thea whispers into my ear. “Or we could skip the thrall autopsy and go get drunk at the Green Bean. Whaddya say?”

---